I looked back at my old posts and found this as a draft. I guess I didnt get to post this one (but did post Zayan’s birth story in some other story form).

“My dear dear baby,

You’re finally here. I’ve waited you for so long (ok, 9 months IS long baby) and after all the sleepless nights, back aches, hip pains, hormonal moments, you’re here and I can hold you, look at you, play with you anytime I want.

Actually, I can’t play with you anytime because having you asleep and quiet feels so precious, I don’t want to disturb you.

The story of how you came out is a bit hazy for your mama here – I blame the entonox baby. Now where do I start?

On the saturday, both sets of grannies were here, and so were 2 of your uncles – Pak Wa and Uda – and your two youngest aunties (Aunty Jimi is only 6 years older than you, so you’ll probably think her like a friend than aunty maybe!). I have to be honest, I was at the point of most impatience then. And also highly pressured. I just wanted to have you then. Your ayah was working that saturday but we carried on with the plan of meeting up with your ayah’s family.

Just after the phone call from Nini Ipswich (I’m not sure yet what we’re calling your ayah’s mum), I felt this – sorry if this is TMI- constant trickling of water from ahem down below. Now, Mama has been having false labour signs all this time, so Mama wasnt sure whether to act upon it or not. Mama told my mama (Nini Girl) about it and she thought it is likely my waters breaking. Mama actually asked – buleh makan dulu Ma? Hehe, Mama figured might as well have that T-bone steak first before subjected to labour if it was to happen.

Nothing happened until after dinner when Mama felt the water going even more. So embarassingly, had to announce to everyone about it. Mama was feeling ok at the time – no contractions really, just the usual Braxton Hicks. Called your ayah from work and we (your Pak Wa and I) picked him up first before we went to hospital.

Confirmed by midwife that it is indeed the waters breaking but since there were no contractions, I was sent back home and to come in on Monday to be induced if nothing happens between then. The whole of sunday, contractions were getting stronger and went back to hospital, only to be told that I was only 1 cm dilated. I can’t remember much what we did after that but both families were there and we played scrabble and uno to pass time and distract me. Have to admit, I was quite bossy then – taking advantage of my state to get my brothers to get stuff/make drinks/etc for me. Bliss!

The sunday midnight, the pains were getting stronger and more regular. Since I was booked in for induction that morning, I was counting the hours to the morning.”

It stopped there. Presumably cos baby woke up, cried and I had to go. Which is to be honest, how a lot of my posts back in the day finished. Whenever I say ‘gtg’, that means I have been summoned by Prince Zayan. (He has a throne by the name of Quinny Zapp xtra. We carry him sometimes on the stroller…like when we went up and down the stairs of London tube station.)

I also remember posting this….

“Baby comes and Baby is furious. Those books which say that babies dont have emotions until they are older? Burn them. Dance on the ashes. Baby can work herself up into such a dervish of screaming emotion that her whole body vibrates… Then Mother rocks Baby and finds a hum low in her chest that cleats its way up her rusty throat. And Baby is still angry, but less so. More seconds fill the spaces between the sobs. Mother hums louder, soon whole words are tumbling from her mother tongue, rough as a cat’s, and inconsolable baby is consoled, the fiddlehead ferns of Baby’s fingers uncurl, the shuddering breath smooths itself, the eyes are slate-blue slits and then smaller slits and then only slivers of white as Baby’s eyes roll back and Baby’s sleeping, mouth open with the sweet milk breath Mother would like to bottle and wear as eau de cologne when Baby is grown and gone, Baby is dreaming and Mother’s music is the lily pad on which Baby is the floating, and Mother is still humminh although she could stop now, but now it is for herself she hums, it is her swan song for her cygnet and her infant self, she is crooning the way she was crooned to, a song she knows by heart, a song she would have sworn she had forgotten.”

Ahh, the sweet milk breath – as much as his tears stresses me out and all the breastfeeding through the night tires me – the sweet milk breath reminds me that at this moment, at this age, I can never take it back. I will find that he will grow too soon, too fast for my liking.”

…and too fast indeed! One now! WOW. Can’t believe it.

I gtg actually, not cos Zayan has cried but because I’m really tired and I should sleep cos I promised I will wake up and play with Zayan when he wakes up. As opposed to being cranky and pushing him my phone/youtube so he can entertain himself whilst I try to snooze some precious minutes. Today he will spend his day at the childminder’s and we will be working. And I’ll prob have only one hour to play with him after work before his bedtime. SO yes! must wake up in not too tired/cranky state.

Ya Allah, everyday, my love for him grows and every day I fear that one day he will be taken away from me and that pain and that loss will be unbearable. And so, I try to remind myself that only You are deemed worthy of all my love and that everything else and everyone else will come and go by Your will. Make me a mother who will never forget this.

As for now, Ya Allah, thank you for our blessing, for giving us this gregarious, rambunctious little boy who brings smile and shine to our lives, who melts our heart and makes things better again.